


The Gold And The Silver

by lisachan



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22944454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: I'll wrap myself in youA little something that I can cling toOh, there you are, my loveThere you are, my loveRain down through my handsScream out like childrenMy heart is a church bell ringingYou are a shiverThe gold and the silverMy heart is a church bell ringing
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4
Collections: COW-T - the Clash Of the Writing Titans





	The Gold And The Silver

**Author's Note:**

> Jesus fuck I LOVE THESE TWO I cannot even. I also am very sorry that I basically keep writing the same "story" over and over again, but I just can't get enough of these two meeting in their minds and Ben just losing his shit over how much he freaking love Rey. I am so WEAK ffs.
> 
> ANYWAY. This was written for this week's COWT #10, M4, prompt: _you are a shiver, the gold and the silver_ , which is a verse of the magnificent [Bird of Prey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yne8pxt4z5U) by Editors, which I adore (both the band and the song) and that, to me, is part of Reylo's official soundtrack. I just love the concept. It's a song about worship and that's what's between them at a very basic level. Mmmh don't make me talk about it or I'll lose my shit.
> 
> ENJOY.

She slips into his mind like a nightmare, like a parasite. Ben doesn’t stop her – he never could. He tried a few times in the beginning, but fighting an unwinnable war lost its appeal very early in their cloaked game, and why bend over backwards to try and keep her out, when he could fight her in his own territory?, at least that’s what he thought, that he’d have a chance at fighting her if he let her in. But Rey doesn’t simply enter, she wrecks, she dominates, she possesses. There’s so much fire in her, so much Force, and Ben wants her and her strength so much.

She takes a few steps within the imaginary space he set up for her this time. The roaring sea, the sand. It’s night, or better, it’s dark. It’s never day or night when they meet, their relationship is unbound by time.

He’s sitting by the fire, and the fire is blue and white, and it doesn’t burn. She leans in, crouches on the ground and lets her fingers comb the sand. She smiles because it’s soft and cool and it pleases her, and it pleases him that what he made pleases her. “I was waiting,” he says, as though such words could ever make her feel guilty.

“I was thinking of not coming at all,” she admits, “But I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to see you.”

She’s a sickness. A virus. She speaks, and her words stick to his skin like sweat. She makes him feel feverish. Ben closes his eyes and breathes the wind in and out of his nostrils, and the wind carries her scent, and the wind is her, and he inhales her and gives her a ride in his lungs, in his blood, but when he tries to push her out with the next breath he finds himself unable too. Particles of her remains.

“You’re weak,” he says, standing up. He’s so much taller than her, so much broader, and yet he feels like he has to overcompensate with his size because if she only wanted, she could crush him. “You need me. You’re not even strong enough to conceal it.”

She looks up at him. Defiant. Unburdened by shame. Charged and loaded up with purity of soul and clarity of intent. “You’re wrong,” she says, “I’m strong _because I admit it_. That gives me power over you.”

“Never.”

“Accept it.” She takes a step towards him. Shamefully, he backs away. “I frighten you. You’re scared because even though I want you I still know who I am. While you...” she stops, she looks at him, and just like that Ben is on his knees, and Kylo Ren doesn’t even exist anymore. “You want me, and that’s enough for you not to know yourself any longer. You’re lost with me. You’re lost without me. You’re simply lost.”

She’s the hunter, he thinks. The bird of prey. He’s just the hunted. The helpless critter in her claws.

He looks down. The sand is moving lightly, each grain animated by a life of its own. The wind ruffles the dunes as it would do with the crown of a tree. They’re lost in invisible woods, that is a desert, which is inside them, between them, and around them.

“If you’re as sure as you say you are, why do you keep coming back?” he asks, “Torture me. Hurt me. Break me. You know I’m lost without you, then take yourself away from me.” He closes his eyes and hisses, the pain of just imagining her gone already unbearable. “Watch me crumble. Watch me fall.”

She falls silent for a while. The wind stops. The world is dead. Even though he created it, she’s the one that gives it life.

“I’m not interested in watching you fall for anything that isn’t me,” she finally says.

He looks up at her and he’s beaten. She towers over him, a queen, a goddess. She’s the sky, the stars, she’s all the pain of the universe concentrated in the tiny frame of a girl. She’s the fire and the wind that feeds it. She’s the ocean and everything it drowns. She is a shiver, the gold and the silver, she’s bells ringing, the clash of two armies, a collision of planets, she’s the clanging of a battle, a war, a dream, the mesmerizing song of the cosmos. He wants to sing.

She steps closer and he’s entrapped. He raises both hands, lets them slide up her thighs, feeling the solid, toned muscles underneath the flimsy fabric of her pants. Her top falls in waves down her hips, and Ben’s hands get lost underneath it. Her skin feels so soft, she is a promise and a threat. She is a trap and he’s falling inside her.

He pushes her pants down her legs, finds her naked underneath. He exhales in relief and presses his face against her soft pubic hair, the tight curls tickling his nose. She breathes his name – Ben, _Ben_ – and throws her head back, and Ben would die to have longer arms, just to reach out for her hair and undo the little buns on top of her head. He can’t, so he settles for her hips. His fingers dive in his flesh, and when she parts her legs he dives into her, nose and lips and face and tongue. He only wants to worship.

She moans and moves on his face, dances on him, her hips swing back and forth, back and forth, and she’s the tide, and her scent and taste are overwhelming. Ben penetrates her and he penetrates her soul. All of her is sticky and sugary and wet. He sips from her as he’d sip from the fount of life itself.

Their fight was never fair. She already won.

He laps at her, her pleasure explodes and drips on his tongue. He drinks her whole. He swallows. He’s saved.

He opens his eyes and she’s above him, and she’s everything, and she’s everywhere. She reaches down and touches his jaw, stroking it with her fingertips. She touches him as though he was delicate, as though he was fragile. He probably is.

“Stay,” he says. He’s aware of the pain in his own voice. He’s aware of the vast profoundness of his need. He lets it out anyway, because it’s threatening to choke him otherwise. “Stay with me.”

Rey bites at her bottom lip and for a moment she seems to be considering it. Then she shakes her head. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s wet, naked and messy, she’s wrecked, but she’s unbeaten, untainted, unbroken. “No,” she says, “It’s you who must come to me.”

Then she steps away from him. And out of his sight. She’s already a million galaxies away. Out of reach.

Ben opens his eyes and finds himself back in his quarters, on the Finalizer. He’s alone and his chest tightens at the thought. But if he closes his eyes again and inhales deeply he can still smell her. And if he stretches their bond, she’s within reach again.


End file.
